


Taking Tips

by elegantanagram (Lir)



Series: HSWC 2013 Bonus Round Fills [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Armchair Therapy, Board Games, Line Cook Tavros, Multi, POV Third Person Omniscient, Recreation Time, Study Group, Truancy from Work, Waiters & Waitresses, Waitress Terezi, Waitress Vriska, Waitress-stuck AU, Wordcount: 100-2.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lir/pseuds/elegantanagram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Vriska skips out on work for no discernible reason, Terezi only wants a study break between shifts, Tavros tags after them solely because he's been coerced, and everyone plays a boardgame intended for young children. Rose, though her suffering be long and arduous, is here specifically for the copious amounts of psychoanalytical fodder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Tips

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [HSWC](http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/) in the fifth bonus round, for which the overarching theme is "board/tabletop games." I have had a long-standing desire to write something in which Terezi and Vriska are waitresses at the largely-accidental prompting of [Ceri](http://ceriene.tumblr.com/), so I used the game Don't Tip the Waiter as a prompt to facilitate waitress-stuck AU. 
> 
> All pairings are more implied than directly illustrated, but in my opinion, they're pretty heavily implied.

-

“I seem to recall, when I first sat down at this secluded table, having some sense of purpose. A specific intention behind my being here, if you will. It may have had to do with the books, although heaven only knows why I would care about books while being in a library.”

“Shut it, Lalonde,” Vriska says, dumping a battered-edged box on the table. 

The sound of its impact echoes dimly off tall, heavy bookshelves. Behind Vriska, Tavros flinches at the sudden noise, darting his eyes around the room like he's looking for a reprimand. But Rose is set up in the very back of the building, well away from any other library patrons, and even Vriska's noisy theatrics earn them no attention.

“If I have to be here with you boring losers,” Vriska continues, the slight jerk of her head lumping Tavros into that number, “the least you can do is entertain me.”

“You don't have to be here,” Terezi says, flicking forward a few pages in the book she has out. At some length, she bothers to tilt her face up at Vriska. “Why are you here?”

“It's not like I want to be,” Vriska sniffs. “But _somebody_ wouldn't cover my shift, so I blew off work to come looking for her. What gives, Pyrope? After everything I've done for you?”

“A-About that, Vriska, I don't, think--” Tavros starts to say.

Vriska flaps her hand at him, dismissively, at the same time Terezi asks, “So you skipped work, what's mister fries and an onion ring doing here?”

“I know, Vriska thought, that was really funny,” Tavros begins again, looking mortified. “But really, I think it was, an honest mistake. And more so, than that, it was kind of, really bad. In the kitchen, allergies aren't, a laughing matter.”

Vriska shoots him an annoyed look, though her attempts at intimidation are less successful on a second run through. Rose's eyebrows are arching delicately toward her hairline, and whatever she might say about her unwillingness to participate in the drama unfolding during her study hour, her attention is unmistakably riveted. Her textbooks on the table have gone untouched since Vriska marched in and began rooting around the cabinets in the room Rose has reserved for private study. 

“Aaaaaaanyway,” Vriska drawls. 

“I'll take some fries in my onion rings,” Terezi says, flashing too many teeth and waggling her eyebrows up at Tavros. 

Tavros turns a little pink in the cheeks, and whimpers. 

“Anyway!” Vriska snaps, much more sharply, and slams the box down on the table a second time. Her jaw tightens and her lips twitch, her fingers clenched into claws around the edges of the box. “I might get fired for this! And if I'm losing my job to be here in a--” she shudders, theatrically “--library, you bozos are going to play this stupid game with me.”

She takes one hand off the box, pulling the nearest chair out from the table, yanking it around, and dropping down into it with her elbows leaned against the back. She props the box up on its edge, aggressively displaying the little mustachioed man on its cover for Terezi and Rose's viewing. 

“I found this,” she says, voice too sickly-sweet, “and thought, what could be better?” 

“Vriska,” Tavros says, taking a few hesitant steps closer. 

“Sit down, Tavros,” she snaps, not waiting for whatever he meant to say. “You're playing too.” 

Tavros scuttles over to the remaining chair, reaching down to manually bend his leg before lowering himself slowly into his seat, far too careful and too mindful of sudden movements. He bumps Rose with his knee despite all his best efforts, and when he apologizes and cringes and finally looks up across the table, all three girls are watching him mildly. 

Terezi has the box in her hands, pulling it close so she can actually read the writing. When she looks back up, her face is a portrait of disgust, painted on with an unsubtle hand. “ _Don't Tip the Waiter_?”

“It's perfect,” Vriska insists.

Rose snorts softly, her hand coming up to politely cover her mouth. 

“I'm not getting tipped today,” Vriska says, leaning sideways in her chair and wiggling her fingers at Terezi. “Come on, let's go, take this bad boy out of the box and get it set up, you're holding up the game.” 

“The prosecution asks the court,” Terezi says, pushing the box back across the table in Vriska's direction. “Whose fault is that?” 

“While you may have a point,” Rose says, snaking one hand out to catch the box and lift the lid off its base. “We've gotten so far away from our literature review that it seems a shame not to investigate the entertainment potential of this quaint children's board game.”

Rose sets the lid off to the side before reaching into the box and withdrawing the bulbous plastic waiter from within. She tilts him from side to side, looking him up and down like a sergeant examining her soldiers at inspection, holding him close to her face. When she looks up again, her lips quirk into a devious smile. 

“That is, unless you're worried your dexterity may not be up to the task.”

Terezi gasps, clutching one hand to her chest. “Bailiff Lalonde! The prosecution is scandalized that you would question her proficiency with any variety of delicate operations. She is just as capable at balancing miniaturized cardboard food as she is at questioning witnesses.”

“Then as they say,” Rose begins, holding out three paper bills in Terezi's direction. “Put your money where your mouth is.” 

Vriska cackles, delightedly, and reaches out to snatch Terezi's game money. Rose offers Terezi the next set of bills without the slightest pause, though she does shoot Vriska a withering look while she does it. When she hands Tavros his game currency, it's done far more kindly. 

Before Rose even has her own game money in hand, Vriska is snatching up one of the cardboard food tokens, tossing it onto the broadly-smiling waiter figure's outstretched tray. 

“Take that,” she declares. “Not even a wobble.”

“That may be because,” Rose says, waving for Terezi to take the next turn, “we've only just begun, and with our diminutive waitstaff entirely unburdened, it's hardly a challenge to leave him undisturbed.” 

Rose ignores Vriska's murderous glare in favor of depositing her own token on the waiter's slowly growing pile. Tavros shudders under the force of her wrath enough for both of them, even without being the intended recipient, and his fingers around his own cardboard piece visibly tremble.

“Careful,” Rose cautions, though its already too late.

Tavros' hand jerks, and all of their cardboard pieces go sliding from the tray. 

Vriska crows, not waiting for Tavros to pay for his folly on his own. She grabs one of his game dollars and gleefully slots it into her hand, fanning the four fake bills in front of her with far too much relish. Even Rose's reproving look does little to damper her enthusiasm.

“I can't believe you did that!” she declares. “We've barely gotten started. What kind of big baby goes and fucks up that quickly? Don't look now, Tavros, but I see a lot of brokeness in your future!”

Rose delicately clears her throat. 

“What?” Vriska scoffs. “Are you begging to join him, Lalonde? Tavros might be broke, but I bet you have cash to spare. Care to make a donation to the Serket Survival Fund?”

Vriska leans across the table, tilting her shoulders so the neckline of her top droops in indication of the trade Rose might like to make. Tavros scoots back in his chair as far as he can, shrinking away from her, but Terezi laughs. 

“Put those away,” she says. “If Rose wanted ribs, she'd visit you at work.”

“Which, you know, everyone says our barbecued ribs, are really good,” Tavros points out. “So if Rose wanted, she could have, the best. Which is to say, not you.”

Rose has her lips parted, some incisive comment on the tip of her tongue, and Terezi's mouth gapes wide in a vicious grin. They both pause, mouths snapping shut, giving a moment of silence into which Tavros' comment can sink in. Or just giving a moment of silence for Tavros. 

Tavros slinks back in his chair even further, although his expression is more defensive than apologetic. 

“You wouldn't know the first thing about having the best,” Vriska spits. “You'd just barrel along, oblivious, because somebody taking the time out of her busy day to bother talking to you and helping you and looking out for you isn't a big enough deal to take notice of.”

“I don't think, that's exactly, a thing, that is true,” Tavros says.

“That's right,” Vriska shoots back. “You don't think.” 

Tavros flinches, but steels himself. 

“Why did I even bring you here?” Vriska demands.

“I think it may have been, because Terezi, was studying. And, I knew, where she and Rose, were going to be, in order to be doing this.” 

Vriska makes a frustrated noise. Terezi shouts “Traitor!” and ignores Vriska in favor of dramatizing the scandal of her betrayal at Tavros' hands. Rose calmly begins placing the cardboard pieces and paper money back inside the game box. 

“I didn't, I mean,” Tavros begins to stutter, glancing between Vriska and Terezi. “It wasn't, a secret, that you needed to study, with Rose. Or at least, I thought it wasn't.”

“You handed me over to the enemy!” Terezi continues. “If there was anyone I thought I could trust with my location, onion rings, it was you.”

“The enemy?” Vriska scoffs. “Don't you mean closest ally? After all the times I've covered for you at work, Pyrope. And all I wanted was one little bit of payback, but noooooooo you couldn't do that for me.”

“You've never taken a shift for me in your life,” Terezi says. “And I couldn't take yours because I had plans. Study plans. They were meant to happen right now, in fact.”

Rose finishes packing away the rest of the game.

“This has been fun,” she says, rapping the box twice on the table to get everyone else's attention. “With the benefit of many future sessions, I expect we may be able to make progress on these not insignificant issues you all bring to the table. For now, I have a class to attend. See everyone next week?”

-

-


End file.
